


Something like a family

by themiracleofhumanconsciousness



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Growing Up, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themiracleofhumanconsciousness/pseuds/themiracleofhumanconsciousness
Summary: In the picture he looks...happy and he realises now that that’s how he usually feels when he hangs out with his friends outside of work. And they are his friends, even he can admit that now, after years of denying it, and sometimes, when he’s off guard, like that night when he’d been drunk, he thinks that maybe they’re something more than his friends. Sometimes he looks at Doc and Bats and Darling and Buddy and he thinks of all the things they’ve done together, of all the things they’ve done for him and he thinks that they feel less like friends and something more like a family.Or, a brief look at Baby, aged 14 to 18 and how he came to find a family among thieves.





	Something like a family

He’s 14 and he’s just finished his first job with Doc- a bank heist with a team of three people he’d first met the night before- a woman named Silver with hair to match her name and a young married couple. Buddy and Darling had spent so much of the evening before so utterly engrossed in each other, Baby had wondered if they were even listening as Doc laid down the plan. But the look of complete focus on Darling’s face as he’d brought the car to a stop outside the bank and the cold concentration in Buddy’s eyes as he’d scoped the building one last time before nodding permission for the others to get out of the car had wiped any trace of doubt from his mind.

Sitting in the backseat of the grey people carrier they’d found waiting to replace their original getaway car, Baby feels the adrenaline flowing through him start to ebb and the tight knot of nervousness that he’d had in his stomach since the night before slowly be replaced with a feeling of fear tinged with shame. He’d just broken the law, really broken the law, beyond just jacking cars and baiting the police for a few hours before abandoning the vehicle at the side of a back-road for them to find. He looks at Buddy, now driving and Darling reclining in the passenger seat, nonchalantly chewing gum as she looks out the window and feels a jolt as he remembers that these people just robbed a bank. And he’d helped. He didn’t know if they’d hurt people in the process, or if that’s something they’d even be willing to do. He finds himself hoping he never finds out.

He looks up to see the man, Buddy watching him in the rear-view mirror. Their eyes meet for a second before Baby drops his gaze once more to his iPod.

“You okay kid?” he asks and Baby’s surprised to know he cares enough to ask. He nods but doesn’t say anything and Buddy doesn’t push it, just speeds up, driving on into the fading light.

Back in the warehouse, when Doc asks how he did, Darling answers before he can.

“The kid did great, Doc. Like a real pro.”

She smiles at him and he feels himself go red. Doc looks up from where he’s dividing up the cash and nods at him.

“That’s my Baby” he says and he feels himself go even redder. 

“Those years of Mario Kart finally paying off, huh?” Silver asks, her voice mocking and he doesn’t like the way she’s looking at him. He fiddles with one earbud nervously. Eventually she looks away, standing up and stretching languidly before turning her attention to Buddy and Darling.

“We hitting a bar or what?” she asks. But Buddy’s still looking at him, he can feel his gaze burning into him, and takes a minute to answer.

“I dunno about you, but I feel like a milkshake. Buddy, what d’you think?” Darling asks, winding one arm around her husband’s neck. He finally looks away from Baby to smile down at her fondly.

“I was just thinking the same damn thing, darlin’” 

And they walk away, leaving Silver, red-faced and angry behind them. As they reach the elevator doors, Darling looks back at him.

“You coming, Baby?”

His head jerks and he stares at her for a second, wondering if she’s just teasing. But she looks serious, one eyebrow raised in expectation. She smiles at the look on his face.

“Come on. This one’s on us.”

Baby hesitates but after looking around at Doc, now loading up his bags and seemingly not paying attention to any of them, and Silver, now glaring at him as if this is all his fault, he makes up his mind, grabbing his jacket and jogging after the couple.

20 minutes later, sitting across from Buddy and Darling, drinking a frothy chocolate milkshake and laughing as the pair tease each other, he feels more normal than he has since that night, almost a year ago when he’d made the decision to steal the car of a man he’d later come to know as Doc. In that moment, he doesn’t feel like a foster kid from a troubled background or just someone to be used, a good driver, a quick thinker behind the wheel but nothing more. Just for that one moment, he feels just like a regular kid. It feels good.

***

He’s 15 and Silver’s gone, he doesn’t know where and he doesn’t really care. Buddy and Darling are still there though. And Bats. He doesn’t really know what to think of Bats. He knows he’s violent, knows he’s a bad person as far as most people are concerned, but then Doc mentions, in the offhand way he often talks about people’s personal lives as if they’re not really important enough to be kept a secret, that Bats puts most of the money he earns into a college fund for his kid and Baby doesn’t know what to think. Because, really, isn’t that what he’s doing, working, driving for Doc to protect Joe from his mistakes?

He stops disliking Bats that day but he never really trusts him until the day of the fight.

Calling it a fight’s the way Baby tries to keep some of his dignity. The truth is, he didn’t do much fighting. In his defence, there had been 5 of them, not criminals, not cops, just kids, waiting for him outside of school and setting on him like rabid dogs for one reason or another. Baby was too busy trying to cover his face to try and read their lips and find out why they were doing it. There probably wasn’t a reason. They were probably just bored. And Baby had always been an easy target.

He doesn’t want to go home to Joe, not with a bruised face and a bloody lip, not when he already feels like all he does is cause him trouble and stress. So he goes to Doc’s warehouse, hoping maybe he’ll be there, or Buddy or Darling, that maybe they’ll help him.

At first he thinks the place is empty and then he notices Bats. He’s sitting on the concrete floor, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Baby’s just about to leave, quietly so as not to disturb him. He’s scared enough of Bats not to want to let the man know that they’re alone together and that he’s hurt. But just as he’s about to walk away, the man’s eyes open and he looks straight at him.

He’s seen Bats a lot of different ways since they’ve met. He’s seen him angry, most often but also excited, usually at the prospect of a job, or happy, usually at the outcome of a job. He’s never before seen the man surprised- he tends to take everything in his stride in a way that’s necessary in his line of work. But he sees a flicker of surprise on his face now, just for a second and then it’s gone. There’s silence between them for a second, at least so much as it can be silent with the low thump of the music in Baby’s ears. Unsurprisingly, it’s Bats who breaks it. Baby, as a rule, rarely breaks silences first.

“They got you good, huh?” 

It’s a simple statement, factual and there’s no hint of sarcasm in Bat’s voice, which is unusual. He stares at Baby hard for a minute and usually Baby would break his gaze but this seems important somehow. They stare at each other for a long while and then, finally Bats lets out a long breath and stands up. When he walks out of the room, Baby’s left standing there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Before he can decide, Bats is back with a small green box in hand. He walks to the table and starts unpacking the contents with his back to Baby. Without turning around, he speaks.

“I ain’t got all day, kid. Sit down.”

And Baby does, unthinkingly, instinctively. As he sits, he recognises the first aid kit. When Bats picks up a cotton swab and expertly soaks it in alcohol, he starts to protest but Bats’ blunt “shut up” is enough to silence him. He sits quietly as Bats cleans him up.

Afterwards, he’s not sure what to do. Eventually he mumbles a thank you and gets up to leave. Just as he’s turning away he thinks he sees Bats lips move but after a few seconds of Bats staring stoically at the wall and not saying anything he begins to think he’s imagined the whole thing, that in fact his tormentors have knocked him out cold and this whole thing has been some weird sort of dream. Then Bat’s lips move again and he gets it.

“They think they’re better than you, huh?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Yes, he thinks, but then that’s nothing new.

Bats, finished packing away the first aid kit looks at him suddenly and there’s a new intensity to his gaze now.

“They’re not. Better than you. In this life, you get dealt a shitty hand, you still gotta play. Don’t make the, better just cos’ they got given better cards, alright? Don’t ever let them think they’re better, kid, y’hear me?”

Baby, completely nonplussed at this point can do nothing but nod and Bats sits back in his chair, seemingly satisfied. Another minute of silence passes, then: “You’re about my daughter’s age, you know that?”

Baby waits but Bats doesn’t say anything else and this time, when he gets up to leave Bats doesn’t say anything to stop him. He gets back in the elevator and it’s only later that he wonders what kind of cards Bats was dealt, what happened to make him the way he is, with the job he has, and whether he ever regrets the way he’s played his game.

***

 

He’s 16 and money’s tight. After every job, Doc takes $10,000 out of his cut and puts it in a separate bag he says he’s keeping for when Baby’s older. When he’s in a joking mood he calls it his trust fund. Baby knows that Doc thinks 16 is too young to handle that kind of money. He told him once that money is more dangerous than guns or drugs, addictive and with the power to destroy even the best of people.

He doesn’t mind usually. There’s not much he wants to buy, he doesn’t really know how he’d spend that kind of cash, even if he had it. Except...there’s a school dance this Friday and it’s not really his thing-crowds of people crammed into the gym which will always smell slightly of sweat no matter what and the wrong kind of music playing too loudly through the speakers. But he’s two years into high school, with another two left to go and he’s yet to make any real friends his own age. He tries not to mind, pretends not to mind but sometimes the loneliness gets to be too much and he feels like it’s going to crush him if he doesn’t do something. He knows that the other kids think he’s weird and he hopes that, maybe, if he makes the effort to fit in, people will stop laughing and whispering when he walks past them as though the fact that he can’t hear their words that well means he can’t see their smirks and guess what they mean. It’s a long shot but it’s the best, the only idea he’s had so far.

There’s a problem though. The dance is black tie and he doesn’t have a suit. Or a tie, for that matter. He’s never had a need for one before now and he refuses to ask Joe when he already owes him so much. By Wednesday he’s pretty much given up on the idea. In a fit of anger he crumples the flyer, which he’d taken to carrying around with him, in the wastepaper bin in the warehouse.

It’s Darling who finds it. She starts to tease him about it but stops when she realises he’s really not in the mood. She comes and sits next to him instead, seating herself on his table and swinging her legs.

“Why don’t you want to go, then, hmm?” she asks and he flushes because even though she keeps her voice low he can feel the other’s eyes on him. When it becomes clear that Darling isn’t going to take his silence as an answer he mumbles something about not having a suit. He waits for the jibes, the obvious suggestions of “so buy one, stupid” or for Bats to make a comment about Baby fussin’ cos’ he’s got nothing to wear. It doesn’t come. When he looks up Darling just nods knowingly and Doc, who tends to ignore their conversations in favour of concentrating on his plans, is staring right at him with an odd look on his face. Uncomfortable, Baby looks away and when he glances back a few minutes later he’s glad to see that Doc isn’t looking at him anymore.

Afterwards, Baby walks with Doc to his car as always. Doc replaces his burner and Baby waits, flicking through his iPod, for him to leave so he can go home. But Doc makes no move to get into his car. He’s watching Baby again. When he does eventually move around to the driver’s side, Baby’s relieved until Doc glances at him and says, in a no-nonsense sort of voice, “get in.”

Baby falters, two steps away from the car and blinks at him. Doc sighs.

“Get in the car, Baby. Don’t make me ask again.”

No one says no to Doc when he talks like that, least of all Baby so he does as he’s told, sliding into the passenger seat. 

They drive in silence and when Doc pulls up to the back entrance of a nondescript building, Baby fights to push down his panic. Doc walks in and he forces himself to follow. They enter what looks to be a dimly lit store, empty save for a youngish man, seemingly waiting for them. Doc gestures towards him.

“Baby, this is my tailor, Douglas. Douglas, Baby. Douglas will take care of you.”

Explanation apparently over, Doc makes to leave but Baby grabs his arm.

“Doc, I uh, I don’t need... I mean, like, I don’t want-“

Doc looks down at his hand, currently bunching up his jacket sleeve and Baby lets go at once. Doc takes a minute to straighten himself, as if making a point.

“Baby, all good men need a good suit.”

He seems to guess what Baby’s thinking from the look on his face.

“Bad choice of words. All respectable men need a good suit.”

When Baby remains unconvinced Doc takes him by the shoulders.

“Baby, listen to me. You work hard and you’re good at what you do. You deserve a night out with kids your own age. Now, Douglas is going to find you a nice suit to wear and I want you to have a good time Friday night dancing to the same generic pop shit that all of the other 16 year olds seem to love and drinking spiked punch until you puke. Okay?”

He’s halfway to the door this time when he stops and turns.

“Oh, and remember to take some pictures for Darling. That woman acts like a mama bear when it comes to you.” He smiles. “You’d almost think you were her Baby.”

The dance is... well, it’s everything Baby thought it would be, to be honest. There’s bad music and drunk teenagers and no one is suddenly overcome with a mad desire to be his friend so his plan didn’t really work out.

Six guys from his year show up dressed in neon suits to shrieks of laughter from their classmates. Baby finds one of their fedoras, in highlighter pink, on the ground and slips it on. He snaps a picture and sends it to Buddy and Darling. He considers it for a while but, in the end, he’s not quite brave enough to send it to Doc.

After their next job, alone in the elevator, Doc asks how it went.

“Good” he says, a little dishonestly. “It was good.”

“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Although” Doc muses as the elevator doors open. “I’m not really sure whether pink is your colour.”

He stops mid-step and stares at Doc’s back, dumbfounded for a minute before he realises that of course Darling showed Doc the picture.

As they step into the parking bay, Doc turns to look at him and he laughs at what Baby knows to be his beet-red face. After a few seconds of trying to keep a straight face and retain some of his dignity, Baby gives in- he laughs too.

***

He’s 17 and it’s his birthday. As per tradition, Joe orders a pizza and they spend the night gorging themselves on cheese and pepperoni. Joe eventually passes out in front of the TV, leaving Baby with control of the remote and he’s just going through the channels for the fourth time when his burner rings.

He looks at it, surprised. Doc never calls this late. It gives him pause and he hesitates for a second before reaching out to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Baby. I need you. Are you busy?”

“Am I busy?”

He can practically hear the smile in Doc’s voice when he answers.

“I’ll see you soon.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

When the elevator doors open into the warehouse Baby expects a wave of sound. There are always sounds in the warehouse even if they’re indistinct to him, almost like a buzzing sound that he’s learned to recognise as conversation even when he can’t quite make out the words. He knows the sound of Darling’s laugh, can recognise the low rumble of Buddy’s voice as he tells one of his stories, occasionally interrupted by the sound of one of Bats’ comments, always slightly sarcastic and distinct for that very reason. Doc’s voice alone is usually absent but he knows it too, could recognise it probably best of all. 

He hadn’t realised how comforting that sound was to him until now as the doors open and Baby hears nothing but the sound of the music in his ears. He’s instantly alert. He pauses his track to hear better but his ears are filled with nothing but the low buzz of his tinnitus. 

He steps forward slowly and his footsteps echo loudly against the bare concrete walls. There’s a short corridor leading into the heart of the room- Baby’s walked it a million times without thinking but now, in the quiet, he feels nervous and it seems to take him a long time to walk the short distance.

In his mind’s eye, he finds himself imagining awful scenarios. He’ll turn the corner and find the result of some revenge plot thought up by one of Doc’s rivals. He envisions it, the bloody carnage- Darling, Buddy, Bats, Doc, all dead and only him left to finish off.

Just as he’s about to turn the corner, he’s hit from the side and falls into the concrete wall with a dull thud. Suddenly, his ears are assaulted with a wave of sound.

“SURPRISE, BABY.”

“Wha- Darling?”

“Of course, Darling! Who the hell were you expecting? Oh my God, Baby, you should see your face!”

She wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him round the corner.

Doc, Bats and Buddy are all sat at the table. Bats looks uncomfortable, Buddy amused and Doc... well Doc looks completely unbothered by any of it. As usual.

There’s a lopsided Happy Birthday banner taped to the blackboard and Buddy’s wearing a multi-coloured party hat. The next thing he knows, Darling’s jammed one on his head too, snapping the elastic in place under his chin to secure it and nudging him towards the table.

“How-“ he starts to ask.

“It’s my business to know these things, Baby” Doc says. “I happened to mention that it was your birthday and Darling insisted that we...celebrate. I told her you wouldn’t want to.” Doc gives Darling a half amused, half exasperated look.

“Of course we have to celebrate Baby’s birthday. Don’t be silly. Now, Baby, sit down and open your presents.”

“Is there gonna be cake? I was promised cake” Bats says and Baby smiles because he normally hates parties, had always rejected Joe’s suggestions of having one when he was younger, but this...this feels comfortable. He can do this.

He sits down and starts to unwrap a stack of presents wrapped in silver paper. Bats gets him new earphones, Doc, a new pair of driving gloves and Darling and Buddy, a set of old vinyl records.

When he’s finished there’s still one box on the table.

“Who-“ he starts and Buddy interrupts him.

“It’s from all of us. Open it.”

He does and finds a brand new iPod nano. It’s still in the box but when he goes to remove the tape, he finds that it’s already been opened. Darling seems to guess what he’s thinking.

“We put some songs on there, already. All of us. Some of our favourites.” She smiles at him. “So, what do you think?”

He looks down at the iPod, twirling it in his hand and, to his utter embarrassment, he feels tears well up in his eyes. It’s so stupid but...he knows, he knows what music can do, what it can say, what it does say about the people who listen to it and, suddenly, he feels like he’s been given something big, something important, like they’ve each given him a part of themselves. He feels like they take a part of him every time they ask him what he’s listening to, when they pluck out an earbud to check and there’s always been a part of him that felt like he was losing something, like music was all he had and they were getting to know so much about him when he knew next to nothing about them. 

Sometimes he worried that someday they’d take so much that there would be nothing of him left.

But now, they’ve done this for him and no one’s ever done anything like this for him before except for Joe and it just...it feels like a lot.

There’s the sound of a chair scraping back and then Darling is there and she’s pulling his head into her chest and shushing him and he lets her because even though she’s way too young and even though she’s a criminal, as he lets himself sink into her embrace completely, Baby thinks that maybe this is what having a mother feels like.

***

He’s 18 and Joe...Joe’s gone. The one person who cared whether Baby came home at night is just...gone.

He’d gotten sick so quickly and Baby had tried everything, he’d tried so hard to make him better. But the sickness had been incurable and aggressive and everything had happened so quickly it made his head spin.

Weeks before, after a job, Doc had told him that they’d be taking a break for a few months, that he should spend the time with Joe. Then he’d handed him a rucksack full of cash as if he knew, and knowing Doc he probably did know, that the medical bills were stacking up and that Baby spent most nights alone in the apartment, pacing the floor and worrying about how he was going to deal with everything without Joe.

Afterwards, he’d had enough left over to pay for a nice funeral in a little church Joe had sometimes taken him to when he’d been younger. He’d dug out Joe’s old address book and called everyone he could but a lot of the numbers had been disconnected and many of the people he had managed to reach had moved away or were old themselves, barely able to get around day to day let alone make it to the funeral.

On the day in question a small congregation gather in the church, a few of Joe’s old friends and some nurses who’d taken a liking to him while he was sick. Baby himself had no-one, no family to invite. His social worker had come, which Baby hadn’t been expecting. She’d patted him on the shoulder awkwardly before settling herself in the back of the church, periodically glancing at her watch.

Now the priest waves him over and Baby meets him at the foot of the altar, leaning in close to hear what he has to say.

“We usually reserve the front pew specifically for immediate family.” He glances at the wooden bench in question, currently empty.

“Are we...waiting for anyone else?” he asks tactfully. There’s no judgement in his voice but Baby still feels himself redden. He feels ashamed, like he’s failed Joe, who was so kind and generous and good and who deserved so much more than this. Eventually he shakes his head, not meeting the man’s eyes. The priest clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Alright then. Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get started.”

Baby settles himself in the front row alone and bows his head.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re here today to-“

The wooden doors at the back of the church open suddenly, flooding the room with light.

“You see, Buddy, I told you we’d be late.”

Baby whips around to see Buddy, Darling, Bats and Doc in the doorway of the church.

The small crowd watches in an almost stunned silence as this new group makes their way up the aisle, past Baby’s social worker and the various other mourners dotted in the pews and coming to a stop beside the front row, right next to Baby.

Darling slides in to sit next to him, Buddy claims the spot next to her with Bats and Doc following suit.

“Well then, if we’re all ready” the priest says, clearly annoyed at the interruption but Baby doesn’t mind. He smiles at them and Darling takes his hand and somehow he thinks that with them by his side, he can make it through this.

Afterwards, in the graveyard, it’s quiet. It’s drizzling a bit and the small crowd had quickly dispersed when the burial was finished, leaving Baby alone with Doc and the others. 

He just stands there for a while, staring at the freshly turned earth without really seeing it, without really seeing anything. He’s dimly aware that someone’s got their hand on his shoulder. He seems to stand there for a long time before the sound of his name being called makes it through the fog in his brain.

“Baby. We have to go now, Baby.”

When he looks, he finds that it’s Doc speaking and there’s a look on his face, unlike any Baby has ever seen him wear before. It’s a look of worry and Baby finds that it really doesn’t suit him.

“Come on, Baby. You can’t stay here.”

He nods dumbly and lets himself be led away into the backseat of a car.

They go to a diner. Any other time Baby thinks he would’ve found it funny to see Doc, in his usual suit and tie, in a place like this but he hasn’t found anything funny since Joe died and that doesn’t seem likely to change anytime soon. Part of him thinks he’ll never find anything funny again.

“Baby!” He looks up to find everyone staring at him, giving him the impression that he’s been out of it for a while. He looks at Doc, who’d been the one to speak.

“Sorry, what?”

“I was just saying, I know you probably don’t want to think about this yet but I’ve got you a place to stay. It’s a little apartment downtown. It’s a bit rundown but it was the best I could do on such short notice...” He trails off.

“Uh... Darling and me, we’ll help you fix it up. Darling’s already got paint colours all picked out for you, can you believe?” Buddy grins.

“Well I didn’t want your new place to look like it’d been decorated by a boy, that’d be a disas-“

“Wait, what?” Baby’s brain feels slow, sluggish. He doesn’t understand. He looks at Doc.

“You guys got me an apartment? Why?”

Bats glances at Doc then leans forward.

“Your lease was in Joe’s name, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, but-“

“And they’re not gonna let you stay there on your own, are they?”

“No, but why did you guys-“

“What’d you think we were gonna do- let you get kicked out on the streets or something?”

Baby stares at him, then looks around at the others. Buddy rolls his eyes at him and Darling raises her eyebrows, unimpressed. Doc just looks at him, expressionless.

“Why would you guys do this for me?” he eventually asks, genuinely baffled. Darling huffs.

“Duh. Because we care about you, Baby.” When Baby continues to look nonplussed, she turns to Buddy.

“Yo, I love him but sometimes he can be pretty stupid, you know?”

She turns back to Baby, leaning forward, across the table and taking his hand again, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“You always got our backs, Baby. Every job, every time, you always get us out of whatever mess we’re in. Now it’s our turn to take care of you.” She smiles at him and there’s a warmth in her eyes as she squeezes his hand and says, in a voice that refuses argument, “We’re a team, Baby. We’re you’re team.”

***

Baby answers his phone on the second ring.

“Baby. I’ve got a job. You in?”

“Am I in?”

Doc chuckles once at the old joke before hanging up.

Baby grabs his keys and stops by the door to pull on his jacket. As he does so, a picture on the wall catches his eye. He smiles at it fondly, remembering the night it was taken.

They’d been celebrating a successful job at a bar and usually Baby hates bars but that had been the night that he’d first tried whiskey and he found that he didn’t mind bars half as much when he was drunk.

He hadn’t even known the picture was being taken, by a waitress at Doc’s request. In it, he’s reaching for a bottle in Bat’s hands as the man holds it teasingly out of his reach. Buddy and Darling are laughing, arms wrapped around each other, and even Doc, watching them over his glass of scotch, is smiling.

Darling had brought the picture, printed out and already framed, around to his apartment one Saturday morning and insisted that they hang it up, in the hallway, by the door. She’d called it a housewarming gift and Baby had just laughed and thanked her. He’d barely looked at the thing until now.

In the picture he looks...happy and he realises now that that’s how he usually feels when he hangs out with his friends outside of work. And they are his friends, even he can admit that now, after years of denying it, and sometimes, when he’s off guard, like that night when he’d been drunk, he thinks that maybe they’re something more than his friends. Sometimes he looks at Doc and Bats and Darling and Buddy and he thinks of all the things they’ve done together, of all the things they’ve done for him and he thinks that they feel less like friends and something more like a family.

He smiles at the picture one last time before leaving the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: themiracleofhuman-consciousness


End file.
